


dryads on the shelf

by octoberswimmer



Series: knight & prince [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday, Bookstores, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, third year!sakunami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 18:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberswimmer/pseuds/octoberswimmer
Summary: A day in town with his former captain is as serene as expected.





	dryads on the shelf

**Author's Note:**

> this is written in a day so tomorrow i will probably want to off myself for having posted this without proofreading 36273 times but i really wanted to create content for this incredulously underappreciated ship and put this up on sakunami's birthday (whistles unenthusiastically in rarepair hell).
> 
> and the captain is actually futakuchi but we don't talk about that....... it's a mystery why i made aone the captain in this one.
> 
> the shelf thing -as not to spoil the fic's brilliant departing idea- is [digi's](https://digidayo.tumblr.com) headcanon she shared with me in her tags on my aonesaku (the name i gave to this pairing... aosaku is claimed by kuroko no basuke fandom rip) post on tumblr, she was very excited when i told her i could write a fic out of it, god bless her for the headcanon and the permission to write it out. this fic is for the whole haikyuu!! fandom but mostly for you, digi.
> 
> happy birthday sakunami, the tree of peace in the garden of tranquillity known as date tech high school (/^.^)/

A dry day has been ruling over Shiroishi, a dry day in contrast of rain and the quiet it brings Kousuke associates with Aone-san. It's sunny, if not a little cloudy in places, the end of summer showing in the leaves as dry as the day, colours fading to copper. There's no rain and there are people everywhere, not the atmosphere that settles over his mind when he thinks about his former team captain but Aone-san is coming anyway.

Kousuke has the butterflies, the sugar space in his stomach, the leftover childishness of a seventeen year old, a birthday cheer and a soft chant of the audience they have at matches. Seventeen, today leaving forever and welcoming eighteen in its old place, gives Kousuke its juvenile exuberance – he fights the energy collecting in his legs that wants to make him bounce. Striding down the street to make time rewind forward is not enough to let eighteen and its unfamiliar maturity take over. He doesn't feel grown up.

A year without the shadow of former third years giving off safety has been strange. Being the oldest ones in the start of the year ceremony, in the team, in the hallways – all incomplete. It feels borrowed on Kousuke. A presence bigger than him is needed. He supposes that he anticipates the short time he will spend with such a presence.

His senpai has intimidating looks and long steps he doesn't want to believe in the existence of. It was two years quite frustrating to spend trying to match the pace. On the other hand, Kousuke got used to -too used to- the vanguard and how he made every destination easily reachable. His calming vibe and the quiet that followed stemming from people not wanting to speak into Aone-san's wordless space were two pluses Kousuke wishes haven't been missing.

It was quite the friendship – a castle with short walls, black stones, backing up a tall tower, lime white. A sturdy, serious man and a soft boy, almost plump. Kousuke thought he didn't mind being small and lacking the muscles every other volleyball player he met had, more or less. It had been a fooling thought. He wanted to be like Aone-san, not bent down, crushing with ease – an iron wall.

He wanted to be like Aone-san, but in the linear flow of time, Aone-san stopped being an object of admiration and Kousuke's feeling of security overwhelmed the disappointment in his tiny build, both in body and in soul. Bumping his shoulder in Aone-san's arm and feeling something firm, hushing to have a deep voice leave the void and talk in his place, sometimes -just sometimes- having a warm palm, spanning the entire top of his head, pat his hair straight became liked, anticipated surprises. Maybe back then, Kousuke found comfort in his senpai which now he is looking for - sweet memories of a bittersweet period in his life, one he doesn't know how to feel about, visit him regularly and in a discreet relation to the visits from someone. Kousuke likes to think Aone-san fine-tunes his schedule to be there for him for his birthday, every year.

He pretends not to remember the importance of the day once Aone-san arrives at their arranged meeting place - a bookstore to buy Aone-san books to fill the free time first year engineering students have ample. Students like Aone-san, those who have brains and a talent for physics, a bright mind that accepts new knowledge with the eagerness of a Venus flytrap, have it easier. Kousuke knows he has just adapted to the relaxation after his intense end year in high school. They're talking, and doing much of that. He sees it as a sweet escape from the hollow he pictures seniority has brought. Maybe the same goes for Aone-san's new-found juniority. He hopes it does.

Aone-san has a plastic bag in a loosely grabbing hand. Everything about him reads serenity, as it has always been and is probably always going to be. The day is dry, the colours are pale but a bigger presence paints it Date Tech green and ocean blue.

"Hey," he greets, as if no time has passed since they last saw each other. A saved copy of not-so-distant but still unpleasantly old memories adjusts the setting and makes Kousuke travel back in time. A stray butterfly flies up to his throat. He can feel his pulse around his Adam's apple.

"Hi." Kousuke indistinctly bows his head. The shaky, newly-wed tone in his voice and movements is embarrassing.

Aone-san's face breaks into a smile. He comes as close as touching, nudging Kousuke with that firm arm of his Kousuke remembers from his first year recollections where they've been the most tangible for his timid first year self. He wants to cling.

"Happy birthday, Sakkun," Aone-san says, with that faint note of melody in his voice Kousuke wants to hear, and hear again. Sakkun, he loves that. He has always loved that.

"Thank you, Aone-san," he cooes, trying to make a smile reach his face in this time of weakness – he can't smile when he's deep in thought. There's not enough time to reprimand himself for using that birdlike tone again.

"I bought you this." Aone-san brings his hand up, a dangling plastic bag following. "Please accept."

There he goes, formal, polite, a perfect role model. Kousuke doesn't like feeling like a kouhai this once. He sighs as he takes the bag from Aone-san, mumbling his thanks, not peering inside to see what has been bought. He's sure he'll like it.

"Why don't we go in?" he offers, gesturing to the bookstore. The lack of exchanged words, his inability to smile, nervousness piling in his stomach -all because of soft eyes, silvery hair, muscles with a sense of protection diffusing- make him want to hug, to hug it out, to fill his nostrils with the very air Aone-san breathes out, to-

He closes his eyes tight.

Aone-san accepts his offer with an affirmative hum and a step towards the bookstore. He knows Aone-san waits for him, doesn't take a step further because Kousuke stands there exhaling storms like an idiot, their sound embarrassing him. Aone-san asks what's wrong.

Kousuke assures him it's nothing. There's no particular reason for his contracting chest and the buzz in his head after all. He's having a sportsman's burnout.

The two contrasting figures, as Kousuke's been made realise once more, enter the bookstore as if they go through a portal, Aone-san instantly distracted by book covers of all patterns and colours, followed by Kousuke who's trying to even out his breathing. He's still blinking.

Books, his domain, should work as a tranquilliser on his jarred nerves. Maybe he's making a bigger deal out of it than its worth. He should try talking to Aone-san like he does through texts and sporadic phone calls. He should speak of engineering, he should tell Aone-san he is now certain about becoming a polymer engineer. Books are a good way to bring up the topic before he spends one too many minutes trying to calm himself down and attracts Aone-san's brotherly care. He doesn't want brotherly care.

"Aone-san," he calls to fish the excited engineering student's nose out of the pages of a mechanical engineering textbook. His finger points to the plexiglass pocket above his head displaying newly published books about the basics of materials engineering and plastic chemistry. "I need help with a book up there." He almost pops an eye out trying to read the name of the book at the front, having forgotten to pick one to need help with in his hurry to end the silence on his side. "Uh, two books."

Aone-san's eyebrows -brow bones- go up at his attempt to hide the unprofessionality of his plan. In that heartbeat he thinks he is busted, but Aone-san's confusion is short-lived, so Kousuke's watching him reach up and bring down the pocket in the very next heartbeat.

His confusion -horror- doesn't last for that short a time.

His face that has been too stoic to crack a smile for the past half an hour, picks that exact moment to show some emotion - incredulousness, that is. It's very disrespectful and... ungrateful to Aone-san, who has done more than his share to help Kousuke and what Kousuke does in return is to shoot him a look of disbelief. Concluding that he won't be able to erase the expression off his face for a while, he directs his looks to the plexiglass pocket and the technical books in it he is supposed to be interested in, taking the case from Aone-san's hand and vocalising his heartfelt thanks. He can't repress a small _wow_ escaping him, but soon realises it is more than okay when he hears Aone-san's soft breath – the kind of breath that delivers news of a wide, real smile. When he dares look back up, he sees a blush creeping up Aone-san's collar, stopping right at his ears like there's a wall in front of it. He recognises and remembers this old friend fondly. Aone-san's cheeks never flush.

He returns to the books in his hand, opting for picking the most engineering related one, having already decided to buy it.  
"Coffee?" he asks. He wants to start the real talk now, to hear more of that pixilated breath. His chest teases Aone-san's abdomen.

"Coffee."

The day is dry, but his mind is clouded with all kinds of drunken rainclouds, precursors of a soothing shower.

**Author's Note:**

> please don't leave me alone with no one to share my aonesaku feelings with on [tumblr](https://octoberswimmer.tumblr.com). don't leave me alone here, too, if you know what i mean. sure, i like talking to myself, but i like nice comments on my fics even better *winks*
> 
> 29.09.17 – dryads on the shelf now has a [companion piece](http://starlity.tumblr.com/post/165846563937/what-do-you-think-about-aone-and-sakunami-like) picturing aone giving his gift to sakunami! (the ask is me subtly trying to find out if anyone'd read when i'd write my aonesaku fic...... people did!!! i'm honoured to have officially founded the ship on ao3) star is the biggest fan of datekou i've met and a big inspiration for this fic.


End file.
